


Eagle Scout: Boyscout "What-if" One-shots

by Adolphus Longestaffe (adolphus_longestaffe)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Bottom Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, One Shot, Power Imbalance, Spitroasting, Top Jesse McCree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-07 11:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12231897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adolphus_longestaffe/pseuds/Adolphus%20Longestaffe
Summary: This will be a collection of non-canon one-shot scenes featuring the characters from my R/76 story Boyscout.





	1. Jesse & Jack

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate version of a chapter from the R/76 story Boyscout, which I ended up not including, since the sexual interaction between these characters was ultimately out of sync with the arc of the narrative and the relationship dynamics in the story. These are the same characters from Boyscout, and part of the narrative follows the plot of the chapter as included in it, but this scene is NON-CANON to the Boyscout story. Some of my wonderful readers expressed interest in reading the "sexy" version of this chapter, and I happily oblige. 
> 
> To address any issues that might arise for people who have not read Boyscout: 
> 
> -Jesse is almost 20 years old. He is not underage.  
> -Jack is much older, but, due to his genetic enhancements, he has not aged since his early thirties. Additionally, a significant portion of his memory has been erased, causing him to believe he is far younger than he is.  
> -No protection is used, due to the fact that this is set far in the future, and sexually transmitted diseases/infections have been entirely eradicated by medical science at this point.

Jack finds Jesse already waiting near the entrance of the Overwatch building. He is wearing tight, perfectly faded blue jeans, a red plaid cowboy-style shirt with pearl-colored snaps, a weathered, well-worn leather jacket, and his ubiquitous hat. Seeing the Commander, he grinds his cigarette out under his boot and tips his hat, flashing a roguish grin. Jack has never seen Jesse in this mood before, outside of work, in his native dress. He feels somewhat nervous, but he attributes this to the fact that he is going to attempt to engage in a social activity with a subordinate, which is so far out of his norm as to be almost absurd.

“Look at you, Commander!” Jesse laughs. “Who woulda known you had it in you.”

“What do you mean?” Jack asks, as they climb into his car.

“Y’know, wearin’ a t-shirt and jeans like one of us common folks. And a leather jacket! If you’da given me a hundred to one odds, I’da never bet you owned one of them.”

Jack is indeed wearing a leather jacket, but his follows the model of the racing type. He prefers this style because it is simple and streamlined (and it doesn’t hurt that the close fit displays his trim waist to excellent effect). Jesse’s notice of his clothing has made him self-conscious, however, and he thinks perhaps he should have dressed more conservatively.

Jesse gives the address of the bar he has chosen to the Commander’s driver. The man raises an eyebrow, but he knows his business and doesn’t comment. The place is near to the main city center of Geneva, in the Pâquis neighborhood, which is (unknown to the Commander) Geneva’s red-light district. At around 20:15, they arrive at the address on Rue des Pâquis and Jack steps out after Jesse, telling the driver they’ll call a cab later, and he can go for the evening. The car pulls away and Jack follows Jesse toward a very lively, very noisy drinking establishment.

“Rawhide Saloon?” he says, eyeing Jesse dubiously. “You managed to find a cowboy bar in Switzerland?”

“Yes, sir, I did,” Jesse replies, suppressing a smile and keeping his eyes straight ahead.

Jack pulls out his wallet to retrieve his identification, but the burly man at the door eyes them up and down and then jerks his head, indicating that they are free to go inside. Jesse opens the door and they enter to the strains of Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire, being pumped through the sound system. Jack is immediately aware of several facts: the bar’s patrons appear to be almost exclusively male, drinks are being served by muscular, shirtless men in skin-tight Wrangler jeans and cowboy hats, and a man behind the bar is waving excitedly and calling out to Jesse over the boisterous clamor of the crowded establishment. Above the bar on the wall, a row of souvenir t-shirts are displayed for sale, bearing the slogan “Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy,” along with the Rawhide Saloon name and logo.

Jack grabs Jesse’s arm and stops him. “Jesse…this is a gay bar.”

“Is it?” Jesse asks, in mock disbelief. He pushes back the brim of his hat and looks around. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

Jack raises his eyebrows. “So, you’re telling me you somehow managed to find a _gay_ cowboy bar in—holy shit, is that a mechanical bull?”

“Looks to be,” Jesse grins. “You wanna give ‘er a spin?”

“I—I don’t think so,” Jack says, shaking his head. He is absolutely petrified by the entire situation and his instinct is to bolt, but Jesse is already pulling him toward the bar. The bartender who has been trying to get Jesse’s attention (and who _is_ wearing a shirt) greets them enthusiastically.

“Howdy, Jesse!” he exclaims, in an impressively thick German accent. “Where have you been?”

“Howdy, Karl,” Jesse says, leaning on the bar. “I been awful busy. You ain’t been keepin’ the light on for me, have you?”

“The light is always on for you!” Karl laughs. Then he rakes his eyes over Jack. “Mmmm. Who is your friend?”

“This is my cousin, uh—James. He’s payin’ me a visit from the States.”

“Ooh, Jesse and James!” Karl says, winking knowingly. “A pair of real American outlaws. I hope you are not too…dangerous.”

Jack thinks Karl looks as if he would very much like them to be dangerous.

“We’re only dangerous to the bad guys, darlin’,” Jesse says smoothly. “We’d never take advantage of a sweet little petal like you.”

Karl pantomimes giggling and fanning himself with his bar towel, then asks what they will have. Jesse orders whiskey and Jack orders an old fashioned, then they take their drinks and pick their way through the crowd. They find an open table near what appears to be a sort of elongated stage or catwalk of some kind. They are about to sit, when Jesse changes his mind. He leads Jack to a line of cushioned seats, arranged along the far wall facing the stage, with cocktail tables in front of them. Jack likes this far better, as it is a bit quieter over here, and is out of the general press of the crowd.

“This ain’t really the kinda place you expected, is it,” Jesse says, eyeing Jack over his glass of whiskey.

“No, it’s not.” Jack fidgets with his glass. “But I’m, uh…always open to…to trying new things. It seems to be quite a popular place.”

“Sure is,” Jesse smiles. “But it ain’t always so rowdy in here. Only tonight they’re havin’ a kind of a…show.”

As if on cue, the music fades and a voice over the speakers booms, “Howdy, y’all!” The crowd returns this salutation emphatically, then the announcer continues. “Please give a big Texas-style welcome to Mister Wiiiiiild Bill Hick-cock!”

The crowd loses its mind with applause as the lights lower and a spotlight beams down onto the stage. Jack suddenly understands why Jesse had thought better of taking the table up front, and is immensely grateful for the consideration. Wild Bill bursts onto the stage, wearing an enormous ten-gallon hat, a red bandana, a leather vest, and tearaway chaps over what appears to be a denim g-string. Jack looks at Jesse, then back at the stage, then breaks down laughing.

“Holy fucking shit, Jesse,” he says, when he catches his breath. “You must have the biggest, brassiest balls in the world. I told you to pick a place for us to have a drink and you brought me to a gay cowboy strip club.”

“Well, they like to call it a pansexual cabaret,” Jesse says, leaning back lazily in his seat. “But that’s about the size of it, yeah.” He grins. “You like it?”

Jack stares at him open mouthed for a moment, then he says, “You know what? I think I do. This is not a place I’d have ever visited on my own, but I’m glad we’re here. I haven’t done anything fun and crazy since…I can’t remember when.”

“Well, I’m glad. I figured you could stand to cut loose a little, Commander,” Jesse says, clapping Jack on the shoulder.

“Please, Jesse, we’re not at work,” Jack rejoins. “Call me _James_.”

They turn their attention to the athletic gyrations of Mr. Hick-cock, who has chosen to dance to the Saloon’s signature song (of course), Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy. This is followed by an array of other performances, all to country songs and all more or less similar in motif: a muscular dancer emerges in some kind of western costume, undertakes some extraordinary acrobatics, and ends cloaked in the thunderous admiration of the audience, and nothing else. Jack doesn’t find this kind of thing particularly sexually arousing, but he enjoys himself thoroughly, exchanging comments and laughs with Jesse and even joining in the applause. As the performances end, Jack remarks on the fact that the dancers’ outfits were strongly reminiscent of what Jesse was wearing when they picked him up, which produces a crimson blush from the young cowboy.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed!” Jack laughs, as Jesse’s hat comes down over his eyes. “You’re hotter than all these guys anyway. I’m surprised they haven’t asked you to dance.”

“Well…they kinda have, actually.”

“What, really?” Jack says, laughing even harder. “They want you to strip?”

“Not like a regular or nothin’,” Jesse says, with a sheepish grin. “There’s an amateur night once a month and Karl’s been wheedlin’ away tryin’ to get me to do it.”

“Karl, the bartender?”

“Karl’s the owner,” Jesse says. “Ain’t you noticed he’s the only one with a shirt on?”

“Oh, I wondered what that was about. But, Jesse, you’re not really going to strip…are you?”

“Fuck no, I ain’t!” Jesse laughs. “That’d violate about a dozen rules of conduct for Overwatch agents. ‘Sides, I was born with five or six left feet anyhow, so I think it’s best left to the professionals.”

Jack feels a little ridiculous for thinking that his young agent might actually be planning on stripping for a nightclub audience, but at the same time, he’s not so sure he’d be entirely opposed to seeing it. He catches himself in this thought and blushes to the ears, which he hides by downing his drink. Jesse doesn’t appear to notice, or if he does, he doesn’t say anything about it.

When it comes time to go, they stop by the bar to bid farewell to Karl, who extracts a positive promise from James that he’ll come back soon, and then they step out into the relative calm of the crisp, clear autumn night. Jack has only had the two drinks, and Jesse responsibly switched to ginger ale after his second whiskey, but they are still warm and giddy with the excitement of the lively evening they’ve had.

They take a cab back to HQ, laughing together and recounting some of the more ridiculously over-the-top antics of the dancers. As they step onto the elevator, Jack is suddenly reluctant to part with his new friend. He doesn’t easily make friends, and it feels so good just to be easy and cheerful with someone this way.

“Hey, are you hungry?” he asks, sliding his card for the top floor.

“Starved,” Jesse replies. “You wanna go to the mess and rustle up somethin’ to eat?”

“I’ve got a better idea. I happen to make the world’s best grilled cheese sandwich. You want one?”

“I dunno, Commander,” Jesse says doubtfully, crossing his arms. “I had some mighty good grilled cheese in my day. How do you know yours is the best?”

“Only one way to find out.”

It doesn’t occur to Jack in the slightest that what he is doing might very well be construed as the proverbial “would you like to come up?” that customarily follows a successful romantic evening. Jesse, however, is keenly, breathlessly aware of the implication. His mouth goes dry and he physically trembles as he follows his commanding officer into his spacious, immaculate quarters.

Jack removes his boots and tosses his jacket over the back of the sofa, then excuses himself to the restroom. Jesse removes his boots as well, then takes off his hat and jacket and lays them down by Jack’s. He stares around him at the sparsely furnished and yet somehow opulent apartment. He’s never seen the inside of the Strike-Commander’s private quarters before, and there is a daunting, awe-inspiring quality to it. Like being in a big fancy church. Everything is spotlessly clean and looks exorbitantly expensive.

The large, L-shaped sofa is white, as is the thick, plush carpet. A gigantic holovid screen covers almost an entire wall of the living room, and the coffee table and book shelves are some kind of rich, dark wood. Jesse notices immediately that there is something missing. Not a single personal photograph or knickknack can be seen in the place. He takes a closer look at the bookshelves. They are filled with military manuals, history books, and even a few cookbooks, but do not contain a single photo album or book for leisure reading.

He doesn’t have time to think about it, however, as Jack returns at that moment. He opens bottles of beer for them, then heats up a cast-iron pan and prepares what Jesse can honestly say is the best grilled cheese sandwich he’s ever eaten (correcting, of course, for slight bias). When their sandwiches have been enthusiastically consumed, they move to the living room to sit comfortably while they sip their beers.

Jack looks at Jesse thoughtfully. “You’re…very interesting, Jesse.”

“I am?” Jesse says, glancing about as if he thinks the compliment must be intended for someone else in the room.

“You are,” Jack smiles. “There’s a lot more to you than meets the eye. I’m not proud to admit it, but at first, I really thought you were just another criminal. I assumed you were using the fact of losing your parents to excuse your actions. But I was completely wrong about you. I can see why Gabe likes you so much.”

“Commander Reyes?” Jesse asks, somewhat surprised. “I reckon he likes me enough.” He pauses, realizing how ungrateful this must sound. “I mean to say, he’s been real kind to me, and I know I owe him my life. He pulled me outta that pit and give me a chance to do somethin’ good with myself, and I won’t never forget it. But as long as we’re talkin’ plain this way, I gotta say I think all that’s more on account of him and me both bein’ orphans and him wantin’ to even up his own score than him bein’ particular fond of me.”

“I don’t think that’s true. He really cares about you. He’s been your loyal partisan since you first arrived here. In fact, I thought the two of you were…” Jack trails off and takes a swig of his beer.

Jesse’s eyes go wide. “Hold up a sec, pard. You thought Commander Reyes and me was fuckin’?”

“I don’t…I don’t think I suggested that,” Jack says uneasily. “But I thought there was something between you two that was…more than professional.”

Jesse blinks for a moment, then laughs out loud. “Fuck me, I ain’t never heard somethin’ so goddamn ridiculous. Me and the boss all romantic like?”

“So…there’s nothing like that between you two then?”

“Shit no!” Jesse says emphatically. “We only just got to bein’ more sociable together when we was in Nepal, and that’s cause he thought I was dyin’.”

“Christ. I am so embarrassed,” Jack says, resting his forehead in his hands.

“Naw, don’t be,” Jesse smiles, heartily patting Jack’s knee. “I ain’t offended or nothin’. You been all wrong about me from toe to tip. I’m just glad we’re gettin’ it all out now.”

“Thanks, Jesse,” Jack says, smiling up at him. “I am, too.”

“Anything else you wanna clear up, since we’re bein’ so personable?” Jesse grins. “Now’s your chance. You got a hankerin’ to know anything about the famous outlaw Jesse McCree?”

“I do, actually. How…how did you know I was gay?”

Jesse laughs again. “What do you mean, how?”

“I mean, I haven’t exactly been public about it. Almost no one knows.”

Jesse considers this for a moment. “That’s kinda like askin’ how I know we speak the same language. With some things, there ain’t no need to ask. Either we understand each other or we don’t.”

“Interesting,” Jack says. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

He gazes intently at the strange, striking young man who is now his friend. What an odd mixture of native intelligence and unschooled naïveté. He is beginning to think that a formal education would have hindered Jesse more than it helped. He is truly his own man. All his ideas are his own, born from his wits and his hours of solitary contemplation in the long, dark desert night.

Jesse gazes back, right into those blue, blue eyes. As much to his own surprise as his Commander’s, he grabs hold of the collar of the man’s white t-shirt and drags him into a desperate, reckless kiss. Jack makes a kind of muffled exclamation and pulls away, but Jesse hangs on. He is terrified by the impulsive, ridiculous thing he is doing. He’s shaking all over and his stomach is doing flips like it’s trying to show off. But he’s in too deep now and he doesn’t know any way out but all the way through. He covers that beautiful, arrogant mouth with his mouth, parts those perfect lips with his, and pushes his searching tongue inside.

Jack’s mind is instantly ablaze with tormenting dualities. He wants Jesse. He loves Gabe. But Gabe doesn’t love him. He doesn’t act like he does. And things are so cold and complicated and distant between them. Jesse is so warm and real and… _here_.

Nothing could have prepared Jesse for his astonishment when the Commander actually begins to respond to his kiss. His heart pounds as Jack’s tongue slides forward to caress his. He feels strong hands moving up under his shirt, clutching at him with desire. Jack draws back and looks into Jesse’s eyes for a tense, heavy beat.

“Jesse,” he says, “would you like to have sex with me?”

“I—yeah—uh, yes,” Jesse sputters, barely able to form the words. “Yes, please.”

Jack stands up and pulls his t-shirt off over his head. Jesse swallows hard. The man is built like a Greek god. His body is literally flawless. Square and muscular, not a single scratch, scar, blemish, or so much as a millimeter of fat anywhere on it. He makes those strippers look like dumpy soccer dads. He steps between Jesse’s legs. Jesse pushes his face up against Jack’s flat, hard abdomen, kissing and grazing his skin with his teeth as he unbuttons the fly of his jeans. He helps him pull them off. Black briefs. These hit the floor next.

_Oh, big boy. Howdy._

Jack kneels to unbutton Jesse’s shirt, which he tosses into the growing pile on the floor. He pushes Jesse down flat on his back on the couch and removes his tight blue jeans. Jesse pulls him down on top of him. He feels Jack’s hard cock grinding against his through his white briefs as they kiss and touch each other’s bodies. He has never wanted anyone this way. He wants this man with his entire being. He suddenly feels that every second he isn’t physically inside him is an unbearable agony. But a wave of panic seizes him as his commanding officer peels off his underwear. He is naked with the man he has wanted since he had his first, adolescent inkling of sexual desire. What if he fucks it up and it goes horribly wrong? What if he comes too fast, or does somethin’ he don’t like? That would be a blow far too heavy for him to sustain. He takes a deep breath to steady his nerves.

Jack, misinterpreting his apprehension, pulls away to look into his face again. “Jesse…you have been with a man before…right?”

“Yes I have,” Jesse says frankly. “Women, too.”

“You’re bisexual?”

“I dunno, I guess you could call it that. I like men better, but I ain’t too particular about the mechanics, so long as everyone comes and has a good time gettin’ there. What about you? You more of a batter or a catcher?”

Jack laughs and leans in to kiss him again. Jesse bites his bottom lip and tugs at it playfully. Jack makes a soft, high-pitched sound in his throat. There it is. As eloquent as a thousand-word declaration, typed up and notarized. Jesse sits up and grabs a handful of Jack’s blonde hair, covering his mouth with a deep, forceful kiss. Then he spits into his hand and wraps it around both their cocks. Jack moans and claws his back as they slide against each other in Jesse’s firm grip.

“Fuck me, Jesse,” he murmurs, thrusting into Jesse’s hand. “I want you inside me.”

“Are you sure?” Jesse says, trying not to sound as eager as he feels.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I want to come on your cock.”

“Wait, where you goin’, darlin’?” Jesse pouts, as Jack pulls away and gets up from the couch.

“Lube,” Jack calls back, vanishing into his bedroom.

On a sudden impulse, Jesse reaches over and grabs his hat. When Jack returns, he places it squarely on his head. Jack makes a face and reaches up as if to take it off.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Jesse says, grinning mischievously. “You gotta wear the hat if you wanna ride _this_ cowboy.”

Jack climbs onto his lap, pushing back the brim of the hat to kiss him. “Let’s see if we can’t save a few horses, then.”

Jesse scoots forward to the edge of the sofa, and Jack wraps his legs around him. He takes Jesse’s prosthetic hand in his and pours some of the lubricant onto the fingertips. Jesse gazes into Jack’s blue eyes. Slowly, cautiously, he pushes a cold, metallic finger into his tight opening. Jack winces and shudders, then his muscles begin to relax and give way. Jesse pushes another finger inside, working them in and out, as Jack moans and pushes himself down on them to increase the pressure. Then he guides Jesse’s hands onto his ass to spread him apart. Jesse’s cock drools as Jack grips the base. He gasps, feeling something cold and wet drizzling onto it. His eyes flutter shut.

_Oh, fuck. Fuck._

Penetration. The initial resistance, the constricting pressure on the head and then the shaft of his cock as it gradually, agonizingly slowly plunges into Jack’s hot, squeezing asshole. Jesse pants and perspires, fighting back the urge to thrust, to push, to drive himself deeper inside. Just the slightest friction and he’s sure he’ll explode. He forces himself to stay still, his overtaxed muscles quivering with the strain.

“Don’t come yet,” Jack says. Jesse feels the deep vibration of his voice in his chest.

“I—I’ll try not to—oh Jesus oh fuck…”

Jesse’s words jumble together and collide in an unintelligible exclamation as Jack begins to move on his cock. He rocks slowly up, pauses, then back down. Jesse actually whines like a begging dog. Jack gives another languid, lazy roll of his hips, then another, slightly increasing in speed with each motion. The swelling tension in Jesse’s throbbing, aching cock keeps building and increasing. He can feel himself pulsing against the compressing walls of the man’s insides with every pump of blood from his pounding heart.

“Mmmm…fuck! M’gonna come—”

Jack freezes. Jesse’s eyes open to find Jack’s sparking, electric blue eyes fixed on him. He’s sliding his hand down between them. Jesse yelps in surprise as Jack wraps his thumb and forefinger around his scrotum and gives his testicles a firm, downward tug. It doesn’t exactly hurt, but it certainly does the job.

“H—holy shit!” Jesse says tremulously. “I—I’m good now. I won’t come yet.”

Jack hums approvingly and bucks up and down on Jesse’s cock. Jesse stares up at him, transfixed by the angelic beauty of the man. His blue eyes fall shut and his pouting, blushing lips part. His insides are beginning to tighten and contract on Jesse’s aching cock. He rides him harder and faster, slamming his ass down onto Jesse’s lap, taking his cock to the base and exhaling sharply with each impact.

“I’m gonna come soon,” he says breathlessly, turning those blue eyes on Jesse again. “Fuck me.”

Jesse grips his waist with both hands and fucks him like he’s possessed, frantically pounding his thick, rigid shaft into the man, beating it against the extremity of his rectum. Jack moans and his head lolls back.

“Come, Jesse,” he breathes. “Come now!”

Jesse’s entire body coils like a steel spring. He cranes his neck down to watch as Jack’s cock spasms violently, spraying his ejaculate all over Jesse’s stomach and chest. The tension in Jesse’s body explodes as he comes, throbbing and convulsing deep inside the man.

Then all of Jesse’s muscles unwind and go slack at once. He collapses against the back of the sofa and lies there, dazed and euphoric. His heart is hammering like a bass drum and he can feel his pulse in his temples. He reaches out and pulls Jack down onto his chest, wrapping his arms around him and holding him there. Jack allows it, only adjusting his position to rest his head more comfortably in the crook of Jesse’s neck.

Jesse’s euphoric insouciance is quickly wearing off, and he is once more keenly aware that he is naked in the Strike-Commander’s room. He is absolutely clueless as to how to behave. Should he grab his clothes and go? He decides he’ll follow the man’s lead. After a few minutes, Jack rises and pulls Jesse up from the couch.

“Go lie down,” he says softly. “In my bedroom.”

Jesse does as he is told, lying on his back on top of the smooth, grey coverlet on the immaculately-made bed. He hears water running in the bathroom, and Jack comes in carrying a towel. Jesse reaches for it, but he brushes his hand away. Jesse lies obediently still as Jack proceeds to carefully wipe his body down with the warm, damp towel. He tosses it on the floor and climbs into bed, pulling the cover aside, and beckoning Jesse to slide in between the soft, cool sheets. Then he lies on his side facing him, stroking his hair and looking curiously into his eyes.

“Did you enjoy it? Having sex with me?”

“Well yes, sir, I—”

“Jesse, please don’t call me ‘sir’ while we’re naked together,” Jack laughs. “It’s…really weird.”

“Alright, then,” Jesse grins. “Yes, Jack, I enjoyed it very much. Though I ain’t sure ‘enjoyed’ is the right word.”

“What word would you use?” Jack asks, pushing his nose into the hollow behind Jesse’s ear and brushing his earlobe with his lips.

“Ah—ha, I can’t—can’t think of any words now. Not while you’re doin’—ah…” Jesse’s voice fades away into a low, pleading moan as Jack’s mouth finds his.

Jack feels his hard cock digging into his hip. “You want to fuck me again already? I’m impressed.”

“I want to fuck you over and over,” Jesse says, in a hoarse whisper. “I don’t want to do nothin’ else but fuck you from now till judgement day.”

“Mmm. Then you better get started.”

Jack rolls onto his stomach beside Jesse, who leans down and kisses his shoulder. He runs his hand slowly down his back and over his smooth, taut ass.

“I want you,” Jack breathes. “Fuck me again.”

Jesse kneels behind him and spreads him open with his thumbs. He finds the slick, slippery hole with the head of his cock and pushes himself roughly inside, all the way to his pubic bone. Jack gives a cry and arches his back. Jesse is dizzy, intoxicated with the sensation of dominating this powerful man. He reels and almost loses his balance, but he widens his knees and manages to keep his body firmly still. Jack rocks his hips back and forth, fucking himself on Jesse’s rigid, unmoving cock.

“Fuck me,” Jack groans, stroking his cock feverishly. “Jesse, please! Fuck me!”

Jack’s voice is muffled by the mattress as Jesse grabs both his wrists, pinning them behind his back.

“No hands, darlin’. I’m gonna make you come like this.”

Using his grip on Jack’s wrists as leverage, he thrusts in slow, steady strokes, thumping his hips against the man’s ass as he fucks him. Jack’s insides tense and he begins to shake. He groans into the mattress.

“That’s right,” Jesse growls. “Come for me. Come on my cock, you little bitch.”

Jack comes instantly, trembling all over as his asshole quakes and contracts on Jesse’s hard shaft. Jesse pushes him down on his stomach into the pool of his semen and thrusts forcefully till he reaches the breaking point. Then, quick as lightning, he flips Jack over and straddles his chest, stroking himself rapidly to climax. Jack gasps as the hot stream of Jesse’s ejaculate spurts over his face and runs down his neck. Jesse rakes his fingers across Jack’s face and pushes them into his open mouth. Jack licks and sucks them, then pulls Jesse down to kiss him, letting him taste his own semen on his tongue.

“You’re a mess, darlin’,” Jesse smiles. “Let me take care of that for you.”

He gets up and goes to fetch a fresh towel, but he forgets to warm up the water, so the towel is ice-cold when it touches Jack’s overheated skin. He giggles and squirms as Jesse cleans him up, then they collapse into each other’s arms.

After a moment, Jack says, “Jesse…did you call me a little bitch?”

Jesse winces. “Uh…did you like it?”

“Yeah.”

“Then yes. Yes, I did.”

Jesse buries his nose in that silky blonde hair and breathes deeply. He finds the warm, clean, masculine scent of the man intoxicating and oddly comforting. He twirls Jack’s hair around his fingers and kisses his scalp. It gradually occurs to him that there is something…familiar about this scent. All at once, Jesse’s blood freezes and his stomach turns into a cold, dead weight in the center of his body. He knows this scent. Not cologne. Some kind of combination of shampoo and aftershave or something. Subtle but unmistakable. He knows now, with absolute, razor-sharp clarity, that it was Commander Morrison’s scent he’d smelled on Commander Reyes’ bathrobe that day, two years ago.

The gravity of his situation takes his breath away. If there is something between Commander Reyes and Commander Morrison, he has just stepped into a minefield from which there is no possibility he will escape unscathed. But maybe he is mistaken. It’s possible that two men may have chosen similar toiletries. He knows better, however. When the boss had held him and warmed him up in Nepal, he hadn’t recognized this scent on him at all. He’d thought nothing of it at the time, but now it carries deadly significance. They were, or still are, intimate with each other.

His mind runs rapid-fire through his observations of the two men since he’s been in their employ. There has always been an odd mix of familiarity and distance in their interactions with each other. They may just be old friends, but friends don’t fight like these two do and stay friends. There is something deeper and more emotionally fraught beneath the surface. The strength of their attachment, along with their sudden storms of acrimony, suggests only one solution: they must be former lovers.

Jesse doubts the boss’ll take too kindly to his agent fuckin’ his ex boyfriend. He’s seen the man angry, and it’s nothin’ to play around with. But this ain’t kindergarten. There’s no callin’ dibs on another person just cause you seen him first. If the boss wants to make it an issue of honor, well, Jesse McCree never backed down from a fight. Even one that’s sure to leave him dead. He wraps his arms more securely around Jack and sighs. This ain’t gonna be pretty.


	2. Spit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a piece of very explicit smut that I wrote for Boyscout a long time ago, and that I discarded because I made some important decisions with regard to the characters' relationships with each other. It would be unthinkable in the Boyscout story as it is now, so it should be considered EXTREMELY NON-CANON. To be perfectly, thoroughly clear: When I wrote this, no one involved was even remotely related by blood and I had no plans to write them as related. This is NOT an incest piece and was never intended as such.
> 
> To address any other issues that might arise for people who have not read Boyscout:
> 
> -Jesse is almost 20 years old. He is not underage.  
> -Gabe and Jack are older, but have not been aging, and so they should be viewed as closer to the ages they are in the Strike-Commander Morrison and Blackwatch Reyes skins from the game.  
> -No protection is used, due to the fact that this is set far in the future, and sexually transmitted diseases/infections have been entirely eradicated by medical science at this point.

Jack sits beside Gabe on one end of the sofa, trying not to stare at Jesse, who is lounging a few feet away with his legs kicked out before him and one arm thrown insouciantly behind his head. He catches Jack looking and winks. Jack looks away quickly. This is his own room, so why is the boy so much more at ease here than he is? Jesse should be the one who’s nervous, sitting in the Strike-Commander’s quarters with the two most senior officers in the organization. But no. He looks like doesn’t have a care in the world. Like he’s Huckleberry goddamn Finn or something. It’s infuriating the way nothing seems to get to him.

“Did you want Jesse to kiss you, Jack?” Gabe says. He’s looking at Jesse.

“I…I did, Gabe,” Jack stammers, blushing to the ears.

“If you wanted to kiss each other and you did, I don’t see what there is to be embarrassed about,” Gabe says evenly. He hooks an arm around Jack’s waist. “Jesse, come here.”

Jesse lifts himself languorously from his seat and stands in front them with his hips slung indolently to one side, looking down at Gabe.

“Kiss him, cariño,” Gabe purrs, pressing his mouth against Jack’s ear.

Jack blinks. “What—what do you mean, Gabe?”

“I mean kiss him. I want to watch you.”

Gabe nods and Jesse kneels, spreading Jack’s knees apart to press his body between them. He flashes a roguish smile that makes Jack’s stomach flutter and his head feel light and giddy. Gabe takes Jack by the back of the neck and squeezes. Jack shudders and gasps. His eyes fall closed and his head lolls backward onto Gabe’s shoulder. He feels lips pressed against his lips, and a tongue caressing his. It’s Jesse. Gabe is holding him by the neck and Jesse is kissing him. His mouth tastes faintly like whiskey and tobacco. Jack’s cock drools in his underwear. Jesse is kissing his neck, pushing up his shirt, grazing his teeth along Jack’s chest and down his flat, taut abdomen. He’s unbuttoning Jack’s fly. Gabe pins his arms behind him as Jesse slides his fingers under the waistband of his jeans. Jack’s heart pounds. Jesse peels off his jeans and underwear together and drops them on the floor.

“Oh—fuck! Fuck!” Jack gasps.

Jesse’s warm, wet tongue travels along the shaft of Jack’s aching cock from the base to the head. He flicks and teases it with his tongue as Gabe’s rigid erection grinds against Jack’s ass through his pants.

“You want us to fuck you, cariño?” Gabe murmurs in Jack’s ear.

“I…ah!” Jack says breathlessly. “Yes. Fuck—fuck me.”

Strong hands strip off his shirt. He opens his eyes. Jesse is standing again. Jack lays back against Gabe’s chest, watching the beautiful boy undress. He stares right into Jack’s eyes, black eyelashes lowered, lips slightly parted, as he unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off, exposing his lithe, athletic torso. He tugs his tight blue jeans down and steps out of them. Jack is surprised to see that he wears plain, white, cotton briefs. But they look exquisite against his honey-brown suntanned skin. Jack can’t imagine a more picturesque compliment to that flawless young body. His exposed cock throbs with desire for this wild, stunning creature.

Jesse removes his underwear, then grins and tosses them away with a theatrical flourish, brazenly unabashed as they admire his naked body. Gabe lets go of Jack’s arms and stands up. He takes a handful of Jesse’s unruly, chestnut-brown hair and pulls his head back, covering the boy’s parted lips with his. Jack can see Jesse’s chest rise and fall with quick, ragged breaths as Gabe’s hand slides down…down…Jesse’s body tenses as Gabe takes hold of his cock, stroking it for Jack’s enjoyment. Gabe pulls away and turns toward Jack, still holding Jesse by his hair.

“Suck him,” he says, pushing Jesse down between Jack’s knees again. “But don’t make him come.”

Gabe’s clothing quickly joins the disordered pile on Jack’s plush, white carpet. Jack runs his eyes over Gabe’s broad, powerful chest, trim, chiseled abdomen, and long, thick cock, as Jesse’s searching tongue and hot mouth fondle and caress him to the point of madness.

“That’s enough,” Gabe says, with a devilish light in his eyes. “We don’t want to let him come yet.”

Jesse rocks back on his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Gabe pulls Jack up and walks him around to the other side of the sofa. He pats it, and Jesse hops up and follows. Jack watches Jesse lean against the back of the sofa, legs spread, swollen, ruddy cock standing up between them like a spear. The boy is an impressive specimen in his own right, though nowhere near Gabe’s generous endowment. Jack is rather grateful for this than otherwise, as Gabe pushes his face down toward Jesse’s cock. Jesse grabs Jack by his blonde hair and holds him there. Gabe bends over him and kisses the back of his neck.

“He’s going to fuck your mouth while I fuck your asshole, baby,” he growls, low and soft in Jack’s ear. “Would you like that?”

Jack nods as best he can with Jesse holding firmly onto his head. Gabe spits liberally into his hand and strokes himself as Jack laps the salty pre-ejaculate from the head of Jesse’s cock. Jesse grunts and bucks up with his hips. Jack takes his cock into his mouth and rolls his tongue over the head as he strokes and sucks it. Gabe works Jack’s ass open with his thumbs and pushes the slick, slippery head of his cock just inside. Jack groans on Jesse’s cock. Jesse thrusts into the back of his throat, stopping his breath and letting him choke on it, while Gabe’s thick, heavy shaft fills and stretches his hot, tight opening, forcing its way relentlessly through the resistance till it strikes the extremity of his rectum.

Gabe and Jesse stand perfectly still for a long moment, holding Jack impaled on their rock-hard, unmoving cocks. Then Gabe takes Jack by his wrists, and he and Jesse watch each other as they thrust in unison, fucking Jack into an oblivion of ecstasy. His vision blurs and begins to go spotty. Jesse pulls back to let him breathe, then slides his cock back into his open, eager mouth. Gabe pounds his asshole, the force of his thrusts pushing Jesse’s cock further down his throat. Jack arches his back and begins to shake. He writhes and makes a muffled, pleading sound.

“Come, baby,” Gabe says. “Come for us like a good little slut.”

Jack’s insides clamp down on Gabe’s cock. The pressure builds to the breaking point, then bursts. He gags and drools all over Jesse’s cock. His body twitches convulsively as he comes, spurting thick streams onto the floor between Jesse’s feet. Jesse and Gabe kiss each other over his back, digging their fingernails into his flesh, ruthlessly penetrating his mouth and asshole, till he is almost out of his senses.

“Fuck…I’m gonna—fuck!” Gabe pants hoarsely. “Jesse, come now.”

Jesse gives several rapid, sharp thrusts and holds it. His cock throbs in Jack’s mouth, flooding it with hot, salty fluid, just as he feels Gabe’s cock spasm violently inside him. They gaze down at Jack’s sweat-drenched body, watching their come drip out of his mouth and asshole onto the carpet. Then they lift him up, his muscles slack and trembling, and press him between their strong, naked bodies. Jesse kisses him, tugging gently at Jack’s swollen, pouting lips with his. Jack laughs and drops his head heavily onto Jesse’s chest, dazed and euphoric. He feels Gabe lean in to kiss Jesse over his shoulder. Goosebumps prickle up on his damp skin as fingertips trace tingling lines over his ribcage.

“Did you like that, cariño?” Gabe says softly, stroking Jack’s hair.

Jack smiles and gives a long, shaky sigh. “Yeah. I liked it. Fucking fuck.”

“Come on, Jesse,” Gabe grins. “Let’s give the Commander a bath and put him to bed. I think he’s earned it.”

 

 


End file.
